Bend Sinister

Ecuador is straight and steep.
The one time when there is shadow—and when Ecuador looses its hardness—is 5 or 6 A.M., when the sun is still down on the horizon.
The darkness, then, as at home, tucks itself away in the canyons, the mountain gives its softness to the plateau, and the men who are out walking seem to be dragging behind the most indolent part of themselves. Even the donkey carts take on a distracted, stooped, muted aspect. It is the Shadow, the Shadow.
But that’s soon finished, the sun gets higher, in no time it is overhead and going for one shadow after another. Soon all that is left is what you have under your feet. You are back once more under the Equator’s implacable justice.
Excerpt from Henri MIchaux, Ecuador
(translation Robin Magowan)